January 26, 2004
Self Love
I am here.
Really.
Take the lid off and listen.
I am right here.
Come on open up your mind and see me.
I am the color blue that sits on the waves with light.
Feel my spray? Sure you do.
Whether from my lips as I scream these words
Or from the spitting synapses that I fire when you read me
I AM HERE
Hoping to invoke something.
Fear?
Passion?
Hate?
Love?
Who fucking knows I sure don’t I just fire it out there with this keyboard blunderbuss
Hoping to strike somewhere and make it stick so you feel it tomorrow or even next week.
Am I so mean?
So dastardly to drug you with me and make you smell, feel, taste me?
I want to.
Without you I am not here.
Without you I am just Jeremy sitting on my sea of white with a typewriter and no paper
Without you I am just a sea of holes.
Interact.
I must.
This is my breath. Sucking it in and blowing it out letter by letter.
Word by word.
Linking these thoughts and anchoring them to you and thereby anchoring me to here
I am here.
I am.
Copyright 2004 Harry R. Fagel ARR
News Reel
Beauty is sometimes caught in the flash of a strangers smile
At times reflected in the gloss of lipstick on your wife
Or in the laughter of your babies playing in the grass outside
It is so important though
Filling us with purpose and reason
A way to look past the madness of impending doom
That screams from the throats of the miserable
Every news program crying about the falling sky and
Chemical deaths
Every specialist appearing grave and serious
The new Soap Opera is spelled out in journalism
The faces of the harbingers adorning billboards and print ads
They bring the end in bits and bytes nightly at six o'clock and
Seven o'clock and Eight o'clock and forever o'clock
There is no safe haven from it
You can feel the fear thrumming beneath the city like an ancient machine
Spilling out waste from every orifice and poisoning the well we drink from
How can you dance when it might be a land mine you dance on
How can you sing when it might alert the snipers to your whereabouts
How can you paint when the shadows might see it as subversion
How can you love when we need so bad to hate
Beauty is my sanctuary
I find it everywhere in all things
Whether sexual or fanciful or literal or complex
I revel in it
If not I gotta turn and face the lies
On every channel and in every newspaper and out of the mouths of the average everywhere
The stinking pit of negative sucking us in sucking us all
Ripping the light from us in lengthy gushing strips
Find the beauty implore implore explore find it before it's too late and we are nothing more than
Shit boxes for self-righteous cats
Find the beauty please a pleading plea coming from the center oh please find the beauty
Even in the spin find it dancing among the half truths and quarter truths and zero truths there is even beauty there...
Maybe just because that news anchor is just so beautiful. That is enough.
Copyright 2004 Harry R. Fagel ARR
Cuckoo
So just when you think the bottom is here
After crashing through a thousand doors
It is inevitable that a time will come
When the abyss will open and dump ya' down
So there we stood
Frazzled detectives with yet another search warrant
Staring at the aftermath of a special weapons and tactics section entry
Only it wasn't them
It was the occupants who wrecked the place
A Lortab junkie Mom
A prostitution directed teen girl
“The Friend” (another pro in training) and
The Son
Twenty years old and already fucked
Couple that with 3 dogs, 3 cats and it still way below the average meter
But wait
What’s that?
What shadow lurks down the feces strewn hallway?
Just behind the master bedroom door
Something waits
Wicked and ancient and frightening
It poises ready for the unwary and uninitiated
Breathing pure unadulterated evil from every pore
You can almost sense the vileness even over the general stench of the place
We enter
There he sits, majestic and terrible on his fluffy pillow throne,
Staring at us with a patient horribleness
The master bed his resting spot
A pedestal of his own making
He bleats softly and then shits
Blowing 20 or more rounded pellets across the once white pillow case
They pile up behind him like a testament to Cocoa Puffs
I’m Cuckoo...really I am
What in the name of the good lord is a Goat doing
Living so high among humans?
Yes an honest to goodness goat livin' large on the bed,
Mocking us mere mortals
Daring us to challenge his visitation
I had to know What? Why? How? and made the mistake of asking the aforementioned occupants.
It wasn’t a satanic sacrifice or some weird sexual deviance or even just being extra filthy.
The goat was living inside for one specific and very justified reason:
The horse died.
Fearing depression of the gravest sort, they moved in Mr. Goat before he could kill himself in anguish.
This must be the bottom. It must.
Copyright 2004 Harry R. Fagel ARR
Quirk
New!!!
More quotes from the Lovely Leilani
"Flapping huh? The only thing flapping around here is that patch of skin betweenyour chin and your nose!"
January 22, 2004
Vin
I am Vin....Diesel that is
I am Vin Diesel
I feel the blood pumping through me now
As I dance the adventure dance
This is my destiny
Fan boy I have never before been but now I am
Vin Diesel
He like me is bald
He like me is tattooed
Yes the similarities end there but
I will become
Vin Diesel
My fat will shed like a mob running from crowd control gas
My little girl whine will become whiskey rough and drowned
I will be tougher then ever before when I become Vin Diesel
I watch him act in totally hard guy roles yet still know him as the bad ass yet gentle Iron Giant
Can I do it can I really do it
Obsession is a bad thing it makes you out as the weird fringe bastard who always looks through glass
I will not be obsessed no...
This is a vital epic
I challenge I must conquer
To become Vin Diesel I must just
Become
Vin Diesel
I will wear tight fitting wife beater shirts and leather pants
I will drive faster than shit
I will open cans of whoop ass for anyone who crosses me
I will be the Johnny Cash of roughnecks
The Elvis of rowdy sons of bitches
The Kojak of baldies
I will be Vin Diesel
Watch out.
Copyright 2004 Harry R. Fagel ARR
January 14, 2004
Past Present
Where are you now?
Do your ghosts whistle at you from multiple pasts?
Drifting from tree to tree like rabid spider monkeys
Taking down every accomplishment to some
Shit-stained and reeking level?
My curse is painting over.
Covering the good with gooey reasoning and
Coloring it with worry.
Every great deed cemented to what could have been better
Every fantastic moment
Silent for a second
Surrounded by a graveyard of empty dreams.
This is the curse of the blessed.
I stand tall as fire with love cradled in my arms like manna
Love from all corners, all sides, all.
Yet I cannot revel.
Must not revel.
I dread the day when the carpet of success is yanked harshly
Spilling me forward
Dropping my love like small gold ingots that fall through the
Cracks into a sewer of lost things
Leaving me alone on a twisted hill,
Wretched and fat and lonely.
Hues drained from the day and leaving a bleak landscape of neutrality.
So I burn now.
Trying to stave off the fear of loneliness by heroism and kindness.
Giving everything to everyone and all the time.
Hoping.
Dreaming.
Praying.
That my star is not crossed that my path is not poisoned that I am really living in this Heaven.
That my choices have saved me from my childhood.
That I live now as a model for my children.
As a husband to my wife.
As a warrior for my city.
As a Man.
Copyright 2004 Harry R. Fagel ARR
January 07, 2004
Well....
Positive Energy man...yeah thats the ticket, Groovy vibes and what not, yeah...........Shit.
